


Seven Months

by Janieohio



Series: That's Life Together [12]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Auror Harry Potter, Epistolary, Established Relationship, Forced Separation, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Kitchen Sex, Letters, Light Angst, Long-Distance Relationship, Love Letters, M/M, Married Couple, Married Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Married Sex, Melancholy, POV Harry Potter, Pining Draco Malfoy, Potioneer Draco Malfoy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-25
Updated: 2020-01-25
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:15:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22405558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Janieohio/pseuds/Janieohio
Summary: Senior Auror Harry Potter is requested for a long-term mission for the ICW that he can't turn down. Leaving his husband Draco Malfoy for the duration may be the most difficult part of his mission. Companion piece/prequel to the previously published "And Thirteen Days".  Autumn 2012 through Spring 2013.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Series: That's Life Together [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1559218
Comments: 16
Kudos: 262





	1. Kingsley's Request

**Author's Note:**

> This story began with my listening to the song by Sarah McLachlan "Song for a Winter's Night", imagining Draco sitting home pining for Harry while he was away on a mission. I then considered my story "And Thirteen Days" and realized there was more there that could be told. What began as a short series of letters from Draco to Harry during his deployment turned into this longer, four-chapter story. I recommend reading "And Thirteen Days" either before, after, or between chapters 3 and 4 of this story.

Harry opened the door to Grimmauld Place and placed his bag down on the entrance table, then stared at the flowers in his left hand. It was a warm early autumn day, and he felt the beads of sweat dripping down his back. He wasn’t completely sure whether they were due to the heat, or his dread.

Two hours earlier, Head Auror Robards had called him into his office where Kingsley was waiting for him. "Potter, the Minister would like a private word with you.” He inclined his head respectfully to Kingsley. “Sir, take as long as you need." He left, closing the door behind him.

Kingsley looked closely at Harry, then nodded. "Harry, you're looking well. Not overworked at the moment, I trust?"

Harry cocked his head in curiosity. This was already an odd conversation. "I'm quite well-rested, actually. We just got back from celebrating our anniversary last week, and it was very relaxing."

"Wonderful!" He clasped his hands and stood, as if something was settled, then he looked as though he was preparing to talk about something serious. "Harry,” he began solemnly, “the ICW has come to me with a request. I’m not sure how versed you are in current world events, but there is a muggle civil war raging in a country called Syria in western Asia. Are you familiar with this?”

Harry nodded, as Hermione and Draco had discussed this several times over the last year. “Somewhat. I know the headlines, anyway.”

“Good. Well, they have identified no less than two dozen magical international citizens that are trapped within the country, unable to escape for various reasons. It is a very perilous situation that requires a delicate solution. The ICW has asked that we lend a team to the task force they are putting together to track these individuals and get them out." He stopped talking, waiting for a response. 

"Sir, are you asking if I will join this team?"

"No Harry, not quite." Harry felt relief rushing through him and sat down. Search and rescue missions were his speciality, but the idea of going into a war zone for some undetermined length of time was not something he wanted to consider. He still suffered flashbacks from his own time on the run, and added to that, he hated to leave Draco for long periods. The last time he was gone an entire month, they both suffered for it with nightmares and eventual exhaustion. 

"They want you to lead it."

Harry froze, unable to speak as conflicting feelings raced through his head. Lead the team. That would be a great opportunity. As the team lead, he’d be able to display his leadership skills and put to rest the last bit of concerns about his youth the Wizengamot seemed to have. After this, perhaps he’d finally move on to Head Auror.

“Lead the team?”

“No, Harry. Lead the task force.” 

Harry just stared at Kingsley, dumbfounded. Lead the entire task force? But— He— “The entire task force? Why?”

Kingsley gave him a disapproving look. “Do you really have to ask? Your skills are impressive, you inspire leadership, and you have the most experience and best success rate at search and rescue missions that I’ve ever seen. You have experience in battle situations, and your reflexes and natural battle intuition is nothing short of amazing. Most of these other wizards have never been in a war, let alone seen this kind of battle. This team is going to have multiple levels, both supportive and on the ground. They need someone who understands the importance of both roles and has been there. You are uniquely qualified, Harry.” 

“How long are they thinking?”

“Three months, give or take a few weeks. They already have a few people on the ground tracking leads. The teams that go in, around two dozen people total, will be French, British, American, and Turkish. Everyone, including the support teams, will be deep undercover. Harry, this is an incredibly dangerous situation, but we need to get those people out of there.”

Three months. Three fucking months. He felt sick to his stomach. “And the Muggle innocents?”

“You’ll be able to bring relief supplies like food and medicines, but you won’t be able to take them out of there. It’s too dangerous. You’ll be using portkeys to extract the Magicals, and you can’t use those on Muggles, Harry. I’m sorry.”

Harry dropped his head into his hands. He had to do this. He wouldn’t be turning this down. “When would I have to leave?” 

“They want you there on Friday morning.”

“Friday?!” He looked up sharply. “It’s three o’clock on Wednesday. That’s less than forty-eight hours!”

“They need to give you time to get caught up and talk with the people already on the ground, and to put together a plan with the advisory team most familiar with the area and situation. Harry, this region has been in civil war for over a year now, and the violence has begun escalating. The families, including children, are completely out of contact. Will you do this?”

“Dammit, Kingsley, of course, I’ll do it! What the hell did you expect I’d do?! If I can help, I will.” 

“And I don’t think I have to point out how helpful this will be to your career.”

“Fuck my career! If you think I give a flying rat’s arse about my career in comparison to this situation— ”

“Harry, stop it. Now!” Kingsley had raised his voice and it cut Harry off immediately. “Of course I know that’s not what’s important to you, but it’s a fact anyway. Consider it compensation for what you’re about to be put through. This is going to be hard, it’s going to be terrifying, and it’s going to be emotionally trying. But you’re going to go and save lives, and you’re going to be rewarded with a substantial advancement in your career on your return. Robards has been requesting retirement for two years now. I’ve simply been waiting until the time you were ready to accept the position, and the Wizengamot was ready to approve it. You’re ready, I believe, and this will take care of the other.”

Harry knew he should stop grinding his teeth. What Kingsley was saying made sense, but he hated this entire situation, and that he _still_ had to prove himself to those arseholes in the Wizengamot. He glanced to the clock on Robard’s desk. 

“I need to go. If I only have thirty-six hours before having to leave, I have things to take care of. What’s the security level on this?”

“The highest. Robards knows you’re going to work with the ICW, but not what you’ll be doing. Hermione and I will be your contacts with Britain, so you’ll be able to discuss the basics with her if you need, but no specifics once you’re briefed. She will know what you know now, and nothing else.”

“Does she already know?”

“She was in my briefing with the French ambassador before I came down, so yes, she knows. She’ll take care of handing off your caseload, so you can just give her a few updates and go home.”

Home. He needed to go home. “What can I tell Draco?”

“Almost nothing, Harry. I’m sorry. You can tell him you’re leaving the country and for how long, and that you’re leading the task force. That’s how much Robards knows, so that should be alright, but nothing else. You’ll have nearly no communication with home while you’re gone. We’ll be able to get letters in and out for you occasionally, but no floo, no communication mirrors, no owls, obviously.” He paused. “Are you still willing to do this? I won’t force you.”

Harry sat quietly, trying to hide his distress. He knew he was shit at that, though. “Yeah, I’ll do it. I just need to talk to Hermione, then go home.” He smiled sadly. “What do you think, flowers or chocolates?”

Kingsley chuckled. “If it were me, I’d bring home both. Good luck, Harry, and take care of yourself. Hermione will meet you on Friday morning with your portkey. Now get out of here.”

Harry nodded and stood, then straightened his back and walked out of the office. He stopped at his desk and shuffled a few papers, then grabbed a couple of personal items and shoved them in his bag. Finally, he reached into his desk and pulled out his secret coin, the one that no one but Draco knew he carried with him on all his missions. He flipped it over and looked at the galleon Hermione had charmed so many years ago with the Protean charm. He’d applied a new one on it several years ago, and given a matching one to Draco. If he was ever stuck, and only in the direst of emergencies, he’d use it to get a final message home. He hadn’t told Draco that’s what it was for, but Draco was smart. He knew. 

Leaving the Auror department, he moved down the hall to Magical Law Enforcement’s top offices. Hermione, as Deputy Head, had one of the largest, and he could see her working quietly at her desk. She looked up through the glass as he approached and nodded solemnly. He opened the door and walked in as she pressed a button, dimming the windows so they could not be seen. 

Crossing the room, he wrapped her in his arms. “God, Hermione. Three months in a war zone. How the hell am I going to do this? And I can’t tell Draco any of it.”

She squeezed him tight. “It’s probably for the best. He’d lose his mind if he knew where you’d be and what you’d be doing. At least this way, it won’t be as bad.”

He pulled back and looked at her. “Have you met my husband? The not knowing is going to be the worst. He’ll invent all kinds of crazy, worse things that I could be up to and work himself up until he’s having panic attacks again.”

She let go of him and stepped back, rolling her eyes. “Oh, for Merlin’s sake, Harry, he’s not that bad. And we’ll take care of him. You worry about taking care of yourself. As long as you come back to him, he’ll be okay.”

“Keep an eye on him, Hermione. He gets terrible nightmares when I’m not there. So do I, actually, but I can cope.”

“I will. _We_ will. Now go home to him. Do I need to know anything else about your cases before you leave, or is everything in your notes?”

“I don’t have anything overly pressing. Smithe has been working them with me, so talk to her. She’ll give you any other updates necessary.”

“Good. Harry? I’ll miss you. Be careful, alright?”

“I’ll do my best, love. Tell the family tonight, will you? And Andi? We’ll stop by the Burrow tomorrow evening for a few minutes, but I don’t want to have to tell them. I’d rather just say my goodbyes. I’ll talk to Teddy by mirror, so I think I can skip a trip to Hogwarts.”

“I’ll take care of it. Go home, Harry.”

“Yeah, thanks, Hermione. You’re the best, you know that?”

“Of course.”

So now here he was, home. A box of chocolates in his bag and flowers in his hand, and he had to tell Draco. 


	2. Home

Harry walked toward the kitchen and heard music wafting up the stairs from the potions lab in the cellar. He laid the chocolate on the table and put the flowers into Draco’s favoured vase, quietly filling it with water. He looked around and smiled fondly at the mess left in the sink from his lunch. Normally, that would irritate him, but he wasn’t in the mood to be irritated. He’d miss this. God. _Three months._

Deciding it was pointless to disturb his husband while he was working, he began gathering ingredients to make dinner. Chicken Marsala sounded perfect, as it was a favourite for them both. Gathering mushrooms and garlic and wine, he set about his task. He often sang while he cooked, but he just wasn’t in the mood tonight. Instead, he began muttering to himself.

Finally, with the chicken cooking and the water boiling for the potatoes, he sat down at the table and rested his forehead on the edge, staring at his feet. This was going to really suck, and all he could think about was everything he would miss over the next three months. Would he be back for Christmas? Possibly not. New Years? Unlikely. Valentine’s Day? Probably. 

He heard Draco enter and looked up. Draco was wearing his work robes, but was quietly unbuttoning them to a green shirt underneath as he looked around the room and assessed. 

“Mmm, Chicken Marsala and flowers? What’s the occasion? What did you fuck up? What don’t I know about yet but should be pissed off about?”

“I haven’t fucked anything up. Yet. Come over here.” He paused when Draco raised an eyebrow. “Please, Draco?”

Draco seemed to catch on that something else was going on and looked serious, but he walked slowly to Harry and stood in front of him. Harry reached out and wrapped his arms around Draco’s waist, then buried his face in his shirt. He smelled of herbs and potions, and Harry took a deep breath.

“Harry?” Draco asked quietly. “What’s going on?”

“I have to go on a mission. Away. A long one.”

Draco sighed. “Ugh. How long? A month? Merlin, I hate when you’re gone that long.”

“I know. But longer. Probably three months, and I can’t tell you anything about it, or even where I’m going.”

“What?! Three months? Dammit, Harry!” Draco tried to pull back, but Harry wouldn’t let go.

“I have to do this, Draco. I can’t tell you everything, but it’s a rescue mission, and there are children involved.”

Draco stopped and sighed, then Harry felt him begin to deflate. “Of course you have to go. You wouldn’t _not_ go in those circumstances. But three months?”

“It’s a task force, I’m allowed to tell you that much. And that I’m leading it. Not just a team lead, but the entire task force, Draco.”

A huge grin spread across Draco’s face. “That’s amazing, Harry! And of course, you are. You’re brilliant at search and rescues. Congratulations!”

“Thanks. It doesn’t feel very good right now, though. Kingsley basically told me when I get back, he’s going to put me up for Head Auror, that this will be the final piece needed for the Wizengamot to approve my promotion. Robards can finally retire, and I’ll take over the department. I just have to get through these three months away. God, I don’t want to go.”

Draco pulled his chin up. “You’ll go, and you’ll rescue them, and you’ll not make a fool of either of us. You’ll show them what you can do, and then you’ll come home and be the best fucking Head Auror this country has ever seen.”

Harry laughed. “Thanks. I think the potatoes are ready, though, so move, please?” He got up and walked to the hob and moved the chicken over so that he could sauté the potatoes. He talked as he worked. “So they think probably three months, but I’ll be under communication silence with the exception of a few letters in or out when we get supply drops. Hermione and Kingsley are the only ones at the Ministry who know any details, and you know as much as Robards does. Everyone else is to know even less, that I’m gone and out of the country and will return when my mission is over. That’s it.”

“Will you be home by Christmas?”

“I have no idea. I hope so.”

“When do you leave?”

Harry looked over and barely got the words out. “Friday morning.”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah.”

“No, I want to fuck. Right now, and about ten more times before you go.”

Harry laughed. “How about dinner first, and then I’ll take you up on that.” 

“No.” Draco walked over to him very deliberately, grey eyes flashing, and pushed him against the counter. “You’ll be bloated and full after dinner and not in the mood for a few hours. I want you now, right here. Turn off the burner and fuck me.”

Harry could feel his body reacting already and reached back to turn off the cooker as he leaned forward to capture his husband in a kiss. It was hard, and desperate, and fast. He didn’t want fast, but if that’s what Draco needed, he could adjust. He pulled back and began unbuttoning Draco’s shirt. “How many more times did you say?”

“At least ten, so you can be all slow and soft and Hufflepuff next time. That’s not what kitchen sex is about. Now come on and catch up.” Draco already had Harry’s belt unbuckled and was working his trousers and pants down his legs. Harry laughed when they got stuck on his shoes, and kicked them all off. 

“It looks like you’re the one not caught up. Help me.” They fought with each other as they pulled each other’s clothes off, piece by piece. Draco attached his mouth to Harry’s neck as the last piece of clothing was discarded, then began to thrust his erection against Harry’s hip. They both let out a groan as Harry reached down and pulled Draco closer.

“Fuck, Draco. That feels good.” He reached between them and grabbed both of their cocks together in his hand. Feeling the need for lubrication, but seeing his wand on the floor with his clothing, he looked around for inspiration. The olive oil was sitting nearby, and figuring that should work as well as anything, he dribbled it directly onto their shafts, adding an unbelievably perfect slickness to their thrusting. 

Draco whimpered, quickening his thrusts into Harry’s hand. Harry let go, and his hand already coated in the oil, slid his fingers up and down Draco’s crack, slowing working his way between his cheeks. Draco slowed his thrusts, leaning his head back in pleasure and releasing a ridiculously sexy groan. 

Draco’s hands worked their way up into Harry’s hair, and he pulled his mouth back down to his, shoving his tongue into his mouth, tasting and teasing and tantalizing Harry until he began to forget what his hand was up to. Draco muttered. “Potter, get your fingers into my arse _now,_ please. Come on. I said fuck me.”

“You’re such a bossy little prick.” And with that, Harry pushed his first finger past the pucker of Draco’s entrance and into the heat. God, the heat. Harry felt himself grow even harder, and Draco laughed.

“I love the feel of your cock twitching against me. Aaagh! Mmmm…”

Harry worked the second finger in beside the first and attempted to curl and reach his goal, but the position was all wrong. He pulled back entirely making Draco whimper, then flipped him around and pushed him over to the table. “You wanted me to fuck you, right?”

“Mmmm…”

“Right?”

“Yes, yes, fuck me.”

Harry worked a third finger into Draco’s hole and began to scissor his fingers open and closed, open and closed, stretching until Draco was ready. 

“Potter, now. Shove your prick in my arse. Now!”

Harry slapped his arse, hard, and Draco moaned then chuckled. “Since when did we begin spanking, darling?”

“Seriously? I was kidding!” Harry used the olive oil and applied a coat to his cock, then lined himself up with Draco’s hole.

“Well, if you ever change your mind, I’d be happy to spank you. In the meantime, _fuck_ me!”

Harry pushed in and went a little further than he intended on his first thrust in reaction to Draco’s taunts. Draco, however, didn’t seem to mind. He made a small squeak, but clenched his arse and took a deep breath, trying to relax. “More, Harry. I’m ready for more.” 

Harry pulled back, then pushed in further, then back and further again, until finally he was pelvis to arse and felt for the first time that afternoon like things finally made sense. Here was where he was supposed to be. Not buried in Draco’s arse, though of course, that was everything, he thought to himself as he began thrusting back and forth, pounding harder with each little noise his husband made; but here, joined with Draco. Together. They were a unit, and when they were apart, things just didn’t work as well. 

“But God, they’re working perfectly now.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Draco was reaching down to grab his cock, and Harry slapped his hand away and grabbed it himself. 

“Us. I’m talking… about… us. This… is… what… works…” and with that, Harry gave a final plunge and poured himself out into Draco’s heat. He couldn’t think anymore, he could only shiver, and thrust, and shiver. He was still moving his hand on Draco’s cock and felt Draco finally cross the edge himself, coming all over his hand and… the kitchen table, evidently. Hmph. 

Harry tried to pull back, but Draco clenched his butt and held him there for a moment. “Don’t move yet. I just need a second.” So Harry leaned his forehead over onto Draco’s back and wrapped his arms around his husband’s waist. He held him, and although he had to work on not falling over, he decided to take this moment to capture this memory, this feeling in his heart, to pull back out while he was away. This was home. God, he was going to miss it. Three months.


	3. Letters from Draco

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soundtrack for Christmas Eve entry: Song for a Winter's Night by Sarah McLachlan (see linked playlist below)

[Click here for the Spotify Playlist to accompany series](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4bvFFjcney14XRfotFW9ph?si=LIFNqIiLRQCrDTiDMNWwsQ)

* * *

#### 23 September 2012

_Dear Harry,_

You’ve only been gone a week so far, but I don’t know how often you’ll be able to receive letters. I’m going to keep writing, though, and give them to Hermione to pass to you when she can. I know she’d never intrude on our privacy, but you can never tell who else’s hands these might pass through, so I’ve added potion to the ink that is keyed to your blood. No one else will be able to read this. 

I hope you are settled in wherever you are, and that you’re safe. Obviously not much has changed here. I made some progress on the memory potion I’ve been working on. I think the key is going to be the age of the Jobberknoll feather in conjunction with the acidity of the Lobolug Venom, but as I know that all means nothing to you, I shall save myself the trouble of elaborating. 

I went to see Pansy yesterday. Her new husband truly is atrocious. I don’t know why she agreed to marry this one, practically as old as the last and you saw how that turned out. He only married her to have a child, then he died before she could even conceive, so the estate went to a cousin anyway. For eighteen months she put up with him for nothing. I know it disgusts you that she refuses to wait for affection to marry, but they can’t all be as lucky as you. 

Okay, fine. As lucky as us. 

Anyway, this new husband is an ass, but he stays out of her way, and at least this one managed to do his job. That’s right. She’s pregnant and due in June. I told her if the baby was born on 5 June, I expected a namesake. Hell, I expect a namesake either way. But can you imagine Pansy as a mother? This is going to be interesting. She’s already interviewing nannies, so at least the baby will be well looked after. A nanny is important, of course, and not just a house-elf, though they are fine when the baby is very small, I suppose. 

When you write back, let me know if they are still saying three months on this mission? We have holiday plans, remember, and if I need to make other arrangements, it’d be nice to know now. 

I expect I won’t hear from you anytime too soon, so be safe. 

_Yours, Draco_

* * *

#### 2 October 2012

_Dear Harry,_

So I know I always complain about the noise when I’m working, but the house is getting a bit eerie in its silence. I can hear the damned cat licking herself from across the room. I’ve taken to playing the MusicWizard just so I don’t hear it. 

Hermione came by today and gave me an update. She said you are well, but busy, and couldn’t tell me anything else. I understand the secrecy and am glad they are taking the mission and your security seriously, but I do wish I at least knew what country you were currently in. I’m driving myself crazy reading about happenings in different places and not knowing if you might be involved. 

Do you think this house is too big? I think this house is too big. What do we need this old place for with just the two of us? We can’t even get a crup because there’s no garden. Not that I want a crup, but if I did, we couldn’t. And I hate that we have all these extra floors. They serve no purpose. Even if we have guests, I can’t imagine we’ll ever need eight bedrooms. 

Oh, I almost forgot to mention, and Merlin knows he’d be mad if I did forget and I’d never hear the end of it, but Teddy did it! He made Beater! He wanted Chaser, but we both know he’s savage with a bat and that’s where his true Quidditch talent lies. He was so excited and wanted me to let you know that it was all your help over the summer that earned him the spot. His first game is in November against Ravenclaw. I already talked to Minerva to make arrangements and will be going to the game with Andi and Mother. Maybe you’ll be back by then? I know they said three months, but if all goes well? It’ll be on the twenty-third, so you know, hurry up. For Teddy’s sake. 

And yeah, for mine. 

_Yours, Draco_

* * *

#### 12 November 2012

_Dear Harry,_

So I write you weekly, yet only get one letter from you in two months. This sucks. I don’t blame you (much), but it doesn’t seem fair. I know, I know, this is what I signed up for when I married an Auror, but three months does seem a bit extreme. I’m used to you going for two or three weeks at a time, but I sincerely hope this is the only time you need to lead an international task force. You’ll be Head Auror after this anyway, and they won’t be able to spare you, so I shall bear it for now. Still, that doesn’t mean I have to like it. 

I went to see a show with Hermione and Gen last night. It was the Royal Shakespeare Company’s production of Richard II, which while not my favourite, is always enjoyable and the players were exquisite. I know you prefer the comedies, but the histories are so riveting. Gen seemed to really enjoy it. 

She said Ethan is doing really well, and Teddy is keeping an eye on him. It doesn’t seem possible that he’s off at Hogwarts already. He’s asking if he can stay through the week and only come home weekends, so I guess that means he likes it. He’s not the only day student though, and flooing home each night really does seem to be working well. I always wonder if they shouldn’t have been doing that all along as an option. How much different would Hogwarts have been if we could still see our families each evening? At least for the first two years or so, you know? Regardless, Gen told Ethan they could talk to Neville as his head of house and see if they could arrange some trial runs. There are only three boys in his house for his year, so there’s room in the dormitory, evidently. He says his favourite class so far is Potions. I’d think he was telling me that because it might impress me, but you know how he is, I doubt the idea of flattering me would ever cross his mind. 

I had the Nightmare last night. I thought it was gone. I think the last time I had it was at least four years ago, but it was back. ~~I’m not~~ ~~I don’t—~~

I miss you. 

_Draco_

* * *

#### 23 November 2012

_Harry,_

Merlin, what a game! Your godson is bloody brilliant! How he could ever have hoped to play anything other than Beater is a mystery. I took a lot of pictures, and you’ll have to watch the memory when you get home. You’ll be so proud of him. 

The only downside of the game was that I had to sit with the Weaslette while Neville refereed the game. I don’t care if she lives there with her husband now and she needed the company. Just because I refuse to call her Longbottom, and I clearly can’t call her by her first name because _ewww_. And she’s extra bitchy these days, probably because she’s as big as a whale. I can’t believe she hasn’t popped already, like a bubble. She and Neville are absolutely disgusting talking about this baby and what should they name it and what will it look like. I told her it’d be freckled and ginger, so she should stop worrying about it because there was no changing it now. 

Do you believe the bitch hit me with that stupid bat booger hex? Seriously, you’d think she was twelve again the way she acts. I think her playing for the Harpies all of those years was the most truthful thing she’s ever done. I have no idea how you are still friends with her. And poor Neville, stuck with her for life. I do feel a little guilty since they basically used our wedding as a catalyst for their relationship, so it’s possibly our fault a little bit. We were so delightfully in love that it overflowed onto those around us. 

Alas, what have we done?

Blaise and Charlie, another of those relationships that could potentially be blamed on our wedding, will be home for Christmas. Therefore, it is necessary you make it home soon so that we can celebrate with our friends and family. I shall hold you responsible if I spend my Christmas alone in melancholy.

_Yours, Draco_

* * *

#### 24/25 December 2012 

_Harry,_

I hold you responsible, as I said I would. I received your latest letter yesterday, and I know. I do too. I’m glad my letters are reaching you, even if rather late, and like you, I find myself reading yours repeatedly when I am feeling alone. Like now. 

Just a warning before I proceed any further. I’m on my second bottle of wine and feeling terribly maudlin. 

It’s Christmas Eve, or perhaps Christmas morning now, and I’m sitting in our bedroom listening to the silence and staring at the Christmas tree Hermione insisted on putting up for me. The flame of the candle next to me is about to drown in its own wax, and I can’t be bothered to do anything about it. I wish we could talk so that I could hear your voice, even for only a few minutes. Would it really be so bad to set up a floo, or to allow us communication mirrors? I long to hear your sigh or laugh even just once, or to hold your hand for just a moment. 

Is it wrong to hope you’re as lonely as I am tonight? To know that at least in that I’m not alone? 

I’ve sat like this for hours now, thinking of having you near, watching the snow lightly falling outside and wondering if it is snowing where you are, or if you are wishing for cold in a scorching desert. I have your letter next to me, and it’s already ragged and abused as though I had kept it for years. I keep reading it, hoping to glean some small additional piece of information, as though you might have had something else to tell me that I can discover. As it is, my several glasses of wine allow me to admit that it’s your words of love that have kept me together tonight. I imagine you're reading my letter right now as well and can hear your voice answering my questions or teasing me for whatever idiotic thing I said. 

I’m sure I should close this letter off, as the fire is finally dying and a chill is setting over the room. I can see the early morning light beginning to creep through the windows and I realize that I have yet to sleep tonight, which I am sure I will regret later. I’m to be at Mother’s for breakfast with Aunt Andromeda and Teddy, then the Weasleys have, of course, invited me for dinner. I say invited, though we both know it’s a demand. I might have been able to escape Molly, but am no match for Hermione. 

I don’t like this, Harry. I did not get married to be alone, to be without you. I know I don’t have to be alone. I know I could be with Mother or Aunt Andi tonight, but then I wouldn’t be able to wallow. There, I admit, I am wallowing. I also believe I’m ready to sleep. Since I’m currently in the mood for admitting things I’d usually not, I shall tell you that I plan to hold your pillow tonight for comfort, and plan to sleep wearing your favourite jumper. 

I’d prefer to have you instead, as I hope you know.

I love you.

_Draco_

* * *

#### 1 January 2013

_Dear Harry,_

Happy New Year, husband, wherever you may be. Christmas was lovely, and I received your gift as you arranged. When I suggested that there was no room at Grimmauld for a crup, that did not mean I desired a puppy, especially with no garden, as I pointed out.

However, perhaps, just perhaps, it was a good plan. You may need to find a new place to sleep when you return, however, as he prefers to sleep beside me. He has also chewed the corner of your favourite chair, destroyed three pairs of shoes, and pissed all over the rug. He’s fucking adorable. I’m not sure what kind of crup you suggested Hermione find, but he’s pretty damned perfect. He has brown and white fur that is as soft as silk, but plush. Hagrid predicts he’ll be about four stone when fully grown, so not small, but not as large as Gen’s dog either. I’ve named him Caius and shall hold fast to the assertion that he is not plotting anyone’s assassination, no matter his namesake. I don’t think Blaise believes me, though, as his shoes were one of the pairs that met destruction at his hands.

He’s quite possessive, however, so when you return, I may send him to Hermione’s for a few nights so that we can reacquaint ourselves with each other without the little mongrel. And yes, I’m already planning on how to become reacquainted. I’ve _thought_ of it daily for the last several weeks, in the shower, before bed, even midday once or twice. It will be four months soon. Four months is too bloody long, Harry. 

So anyway, yes, thank you for the puppy. The cat, however, does not thank you and has asked you to return him. She’s spent most of the last week hiding in Teddy’s room, though that might be because she’s pleased to have him home from school. 

I do have _your_ gift here. Hermione said you were not allowed to receive anything but letters, so you will have to wait as I wait for you. 

Oh, I forgot to tell you. I saw Dudley, Charlotte, and Marigold before Christmas. They insisted I still come for dinner and cards, even if you weren’t here. It was strange at first, as they are _your_ family, but I brought Hermione along as a fourth and we had fun. Marigold is walking already, and she gives the most adorable kisses. I tried to get her to say Uncle Harry, but Hermione promised me that eleven months is too soon for that. 

It’s a new year, and I have promised myself that I will no longer dwell on your absence, but will start planning for your return. Now that you’ve bought me a dog, and there is that need for a garden, I think I’m going to start looking at homes in the country. I know you’ve talked about it before, so I think you probably won’t mind, and we can keep Grimmauld and lease it out, or put it under stasis, or sell it, or whatever you prefer. What do you think? I won’t buy anything without you, of course, but that doesn’t mean that I can’t start looking. 

Well, I best be off. I promised Teddy and Ethan that I would take them to the cinema today. Write to me soon. Or better yet, get your gorgeous arse home.

_Love, Draco_

* * *

#### 12 January 2013

Dear Harry, 

Well, the Weaslette and Longbottom had their baby. It’s a girl, and they named her Alice Luna Longbottom. I have not seen the baby yet, but Neville asked that I send you a letter and let you know. He’s also asked that you be godfather. What do you say, shall you take on another? 

Hermione and Ron dragged me to dinner at the Burrow last weekend. I was just there at Christmas, but evidently they had an announcement. I expect you already know, as Hermione said she was writing you herself, but it appears your third godchild is currently on its way. What is it with everyone having babies suddenly? Hermione suggests that it’s our age, that this is the time people have babies. I would never have entered my thirties if I had realized this was what was coming. Not that babies are bad, but they just appear to be everywhere. 

Well, except here of course. 

_Love, Draco_

* * *

#### 28 January 2013

Harry, 

This is getting ridiculous. It has now been four and a half months and you are still not home, and there’s still no word from Hermione when you might _be_ home. This is highly unacceptable. I expect you to communicate this to the senior Auror on this task force. Oh wait, that’s you. What the hell are you thinking?

Alright, fine. I get it. You have to rescue the good guys and catch the bad guys or whatever, and if you leave before you finish, you’ll just end up doing this again later. But I don’t have to like it. 

Mother asked about you and sends her love. She’s been asking me to dinner several nights a week, but I’ve only gone a few times. Molly does the same. I think they think I am not eating if I am here alone, which is ridiculous as I feel as though I’m being checked upon by every member of the Weasley family. 

For example, George and Angelina came over last evening and insisted on entertaining me while they left their sprogs at the Burrow for the night. You would think that after all this time, I’d be able to figure out how I felt about George Weasley. In some ways, he amuses me and I admire his mind, devious as it is. In other ways, he is the Weasley-est of Weasleys, and he scares me. Truly scares me. 

Anyway, Angelina brought this movie to watch about this man and this woman who try to be friends, but the man thinks they can’t be friends because they’re different genders, then they spend part of their lives being only friends, and then eventually they fall in love. It was fantastic. You have to watch this when you get home so that you’ll understand when I start quoting things like “Pee-can Pie” and “Waiter, there is too much pepper in my paprikash.” This movie is brilliant, Potter, and if you can’t appreciate it with me, then I have to question our compatibility. 

Teddy is back at school and preparing for his second match. It’s on 16 February, so that gives you three weeks to get home in time to go with me. Neville told me that there might be something else to talk to Teddy about when we see him next. He suggested that perhaps we have a talk with him soon. You know, a _talk_. About sex. And girls. Which only means that you have to come home as soon as humanly possible, Harry, because there is _no way_ I am having this talk with him. It is _your duty_ as godfather. I’m only honorary godfather and trust me, I know nothing about girls in the way Neville is meaning. You at least have experience there, as much as that disgusts me to think about. 

But back to what Neville told me. Evidently Teddy has a new friend. I don’t believe she’s an actual girlfriend yet, but the rumour is that he’s asked her to Hogsmeade for Valentine’s Day. I will talk to him in your stead about dates in general and what to do and how to pay for them, but I need you to take it from there. 

Please come home soon. You are missed.

_Draco_

* * *

#### 17 February 2013

Dear Harry, 

Well, Hufflepuff lost the match. Teddy made some great plays, but Slytherin’s team was their typical genius and beat them by ninety points. Teddy didn’t take it well, but he’s never been the best at losing. I have no idea where he gets _that_. 

Don’t feel too bad for him, though. He had an _excellent_ Valentine’s Day. Harry, you need to get home and talk to this kid. We had our big talk on your mirror. I told him all about how to take care of your date, gave him ideas on what to wear and what to talk about, and explained how to gracefully pay for the dinner, even if she tries to do it herself. It all seems to have been good advice, because afterwards, Flitwick found them behind a tapestry on the fourth floor stuck together at the mouth. According to Neville, there was some dishevelled clothing and mussed hair, so this was not an innocent peck on the mouth. 

The girl’s name is Chloe, and I don’t believe we know her family at all. She’s a Gryffindor and a fifth year, so I believe she’s more experienced than our boy. I’ve talked to him about responsibility and limitations, but Harry, he needs the talk and he needs it soon. I don’t think he’s going to do much more than snog for now, but soon, Harry. Very soon. 

I saw a couple of houses for sale outside Hogsmeade when I was there for the game, but I haven’t actually gone inside. I don’t know that I want to move that far north, but there’s a lot to be said for living in an entirely wizarding village. Do you have a preference on location? I know with the Weasleys and Andi and Gen all in Devon, that is likely on the list. So far, I’ve just been gathering an idea of what’s available. I really don’t want to go looking without you with me. It makes me smile to think of your ridiculous and snarky commentary as we look at places. And I can feel you giving me that look now. Yes, you, snarky. You don’t realize how sarcastic you really are, but it’s one of your best qualities, in my opinion. Well, that and your gorgeous cock.

Oops. Did I put that in writing? Well, it’s true, and it’s on my mind a lot these days. 

Anyway, how many bedrooms do you think we should look at? I’ve already said that I think eight is too many, but I do think we need some for guests and so on. One for us, one for Teddy, and two or three more, do you think? I want a large garden and would love to have room for a Quidditch pitch away from Muggle view. And of course, room for Caius to run. 

Five months. You’ve been gone for five months. I know you’re doing good work, but I miss you. The last letter I’ve received from you was six weeks ago. Kingsley stopped by yesterday to check on me, and I think he felt really bad later, as I nearly fainted. I’m not joking. I could only think of one reason he’d be here. I immediately grabbed my galleon and it was clear, but I couldn’t speak. He looked so confused, then realized what I must have thought and began reassuring me you were well and apologized profusely. It was so real for those twenty seconds. 

I don’t want to admit to my weaknesses, Harry, and I don’t want to make things hard on you. You must know, though, that I love you. The thought that something had happened to you was enough to nearly destroy me, and all that I could think was that I hadn’t told you enough how I feel. We’ve been caught up in the day to day life this last year, and I haven’t shown you enough. I would not be the same without you, and you have an obligation to come home to me safely. 

Of course, after that, The Nightmare returned again last night. I can handle the general bad dreams of a busy and well-travelled mind such as mine (ha!), but The Nightmare haunts me when you’re gone. There’s no returning to sleep after it, and I spent the rest of the night watching movies on the telly. I need you to be here, as you chase it all away. 

Five months. Fuck.

I love you with all that I am. 

_Draco_

* * *

#### 14 March 2013

Dear Harry, 

Today marks six months. It is now twice the projected time frame. I received your fifth letter yesterday. I wish I were so magnanimous that I could tell you not to feel bad that it’s been so long, but I admit that I am not. I am actually pleased that you are as miserable as I am about this. You, however, don’t have to worry about my day to day safety in addition to the pain of the separation. You know where I am, and how I spend my days, and that our friends are with me. I do not know where you are, what you are doing, and who you are spending time with. 

Perhaps I should end today’s letter as I am feeling bitter. Six months is too fucking long, and I am angry. 

I love you. I must, or why would I put up with this?

_Draco_

* * *

#### 17 March 2013

Harry, 

I’m sorry. I know you haven’t even read my last letter yet, but I was having a bad day and hadn’t slept. I know you didn’t want to be away this long either. I know your nightmares bother you as much as mine, perhaps more, as you refuse to admit to it. It’s very hard not knowing what things are happening right now, and I don’t handle emotional difficulties well, obviously.

Instead, I shall return to general updates, as you said in your last letter you enjoyed hearing of everyone and feeling like you know what’s going on here. Caius has finally stopped peeing on everything, but I still need to take him outside to do his business at least every four hours. He also gets angry that I don’t let him inside my lab, but the chance of crup hair in a potion could ruin the entire thing. He’s finally made friends with Cat, but it appears to be similar to my “friendship” with Weasley. They appear to enjoy annoying one another, and I believe I saw the cat setting up the puppy to take the fall for a broken glass yesterday. At least they make sure I’m entertained.

Pansy’s pregnancy is finally showing, and she seems annoyed that her body is outside of her control. Her husband appears to be giving her a good deal of attention, and dare I say it, I think they might be becoming friends. He even stopped in to speak with us when I was visiting last week, and they laughed together. It’s shocking, I know, but it’s true. She does seem less miserable with his company, so there’s hope for your Griffindor happy ever after.

Hermione’s is not going as well. She seems unbelievably sick. I’ve been brewing her anti-nausea potions that seem to help, but she’s been almost unable to work for the past two weeks. She said that she read this can happen because of course she’s read it somewhere. Hopefully, she gets better soon because I count on her to be at work and aware of what’s going on. 

Teddy broke up with his girlfriend. He caught her snogging a sixth-year Slytherin after she had told him she was too busy studying for owls to go to Hogsmeade with him. The teenage drama seems almost amusing from this side of it. He’s alright, though, and already has his eye set on an Irish Hufflepuff named Clare in his year. He said Victoire is horribly nasty to this Clare, and he can’t seem to figure out why. I wonder when he will stop being quite so blind. She’s still very young, so another year or two, I predict. 

I love you.

_Draco_

* * *

#### 8 April 2013

Teddy’s birthday is next week. I can’t believe he’ll be fifteen. I’ve sent his gift to Neville to give to him on his birthday. He was home last week for the Easter holidays and stayed with me for two nights. It was so good having him here. We went to the cinema, and I took him to some museums and for pizza. He misses you, as do we all.

Speaking of Teddy, where did you last see your father’s Cloak? I know you didn’t take it with you, and the last I knew, it was in the back of your closet. I ask as Neville has been encountering some difficulties with pranks in the last few months since Christmas. He was telling me about it yesterday and it occurred to me that I hadn’t noticed your cloak the last time I borrowed one of your shirts. I’m not going to suggest that Teddy took it without permission, but I am going to suggest that the circumstances are perhaps a bit peculiar. 

Next week will mark seven months. It nearly makes me sick to think about it. I can’t wait until you are home, and we can do all the mundane things I normally take for granted. I want to walk with you in the evenings, to have tea with you before you leave for work in the morning, to fight with your hair and try to make it lie normally, to get Indian food at our favourite restaurant, to sit and watch a movie and make fun of the ridiculous plot. I miss snogging with you on the sofa, and holding your hand, and yelling at you for leaving your disgusting toothpaste in the sink. 

~~When you come home,~~

Come home. Soon. 

_Love, Draco_

* * *

#### 26 April 2013

Potter,

Seven months and twelve days, Potter. You have been gone for seven months and twelve days. I just want to scream. But I will leave it at that. 

Hermione is feeling much better. She said some women get morning sickness that badly throughout their pregnancy, so she says she’s actually very lucky. Personally, she just made me glad that there’s no such thing as male pregnancy. I think if anyone ever tried to invent a potion or spell to make that happen, every wizard would do everything they could to bury that atrocity. Can you imagine going through that? I’m quite pleased to leave that to the witches, trust me. 

There’s a house I want to go see. I keep putting it off until you get back, but I don’t know when that’ll be. The estate agent has said there’s been some other interest in it, but no offers as of yet. I set an appointment to go see it next week. The photos are beautiful, and it seems to check off all the items on our wishlist. I wish you were here to go with me. 

It’s late, and I was up early working on my current project, so I suppose I will close for now. I think perhaps I’ll just wait to send this one and add more to it tomorrow. 

I love you. I hope you’ll be home soon. 

_Draco_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonus points to everyone who knows what movie Angelina and George brought over for Draco to watch. :)


	4. Home Again

Harry snuggled into the sofa, reading Draco’s last, unsent letter, written three days previous. Draco lay between Harry’s legs, head pillowed on Harry’s stomach, watching the telly. Harry finished the letter and put it aside with a sigh. He was home. God, he was home. It’d been a full forty-eight hours and he still couldn’t believe it. When he came home that first day, he’d just wanted to see his husband and hold him and remind himself that it was over. And then he had his arms full of him and the reaction he received was perfect. 

Harry reached up and scratched his beard. Draco had helped him trim it and his hair the previous day, and then had thrown him down on the bed and shagged him so hard he had to do a quick healing spell after. It was perfect. Who knew his very proper husband would be so attracted to a beard and long hair? He got the feeling it would be staying for a while.

He smiled, then reached his hand down and played with Draco’s fine blond hair. “Draco, did you fall asleep?” 

“No, and I would request that you keep petting me, please.”

“Of course. What time is the appointment with the estate agent?”

“Three o’clock.” Draco glanced at his watch. “We have another hour before we leave, so keep petting.” 

Harry chuckled and continued playing with the blond locks. “So tell me about the place. Why did you like it so much?”

“Well, it’s in Oxfordshire, so not too far north. It’s a Muggle area, but the house belongs to a wizard with a Muggle wife, so it’s hooked to all the Muggle amenities but has a floo connection and extensive grounds that keep the house hidden from the nearby properties. The house itself has five bedrooms, three bathrooms, and a loo on the ground floor. There’s a library and a potion’s lab, and a veranda off the back overlooking the grounds. Evidently, they don’t really want to sell, but are older and need something smaller now.”

“It does sound nice. And we could always refurbish if necessary. You like doing that.”

“I do, though I don’t know if it’ll need much from what I could see.”

Harry sat in silence for a few minutes as they watched the telly, then finally got around to what he wanted to know. “So, what do you think we need five bedrooms for?”

Draco shrugged. “I don’t know. Stuff?”

“Mmm… I thought perhaps you were thinking that we might fill them with a baby or two.”

Draco stiffened but didn’t move away. “Am I that transparent?”

“To me, maybe. But I’ve been thinking about it for a while. It’s not just all of our friends having kids, though that adds to it, I’m sure. I just— with Teddy off at school these last few years, it’s been quiet around here. And I’ve always wanted children. You know that.”

“I know. And I wasn’t sure before, but I think I am now.” He sat up and turned around. “I think I’m ready to do this. Or at least to start looking into how we want to do it. Do we want to adopt, or to do that surrogate thing that Hermione was telling me about, or— ” 

Harry shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe both? If we don’t find someone to be a surrogate, then we adopt. If we find someone we want to be a surrogate and they want to do it for us, then we have our own. I’d love to have a little mini-you around here.” 

“I was thinking a mini-Potter.”

Harry smiled fondly. “So yeah, maybe both.” He leaned forward and kissed his husband. “I love you. I can’t wait to start a family with you. This time away has convinced that I am _so_ ready for this.” 

“Me too. But Harry, if we have a baby, you can’t leave for seven months like this. You can’t do that.” 

“I know. I won’t be doing that again.” He paused, then ploughed ahead. “I was thinking of turning down the Head-ship, Draco. I think I want something different.” 

Draco’s eyebrows shot up. “Different?”

“I think I want to teach the incoming Aurors. I wouldn’t be on active duty so the danger level would be greatly decreased, and I’d have regular hours. I’d be able to influence the young people entering the department and teach them integrity and empathy, along with their battle and detection skills.”

Draco just stared at him in stunned silence, then after a minute or two, finally spoke. “Wow. I’ll admit I’m shocked, but I shouldn’t be. How long have you been thinking about this?”

“About seven months.”

Draco laughed and reached up to play with Harry’s hair. “Well, I’ll support you either way, but that sounds like something you’d be brilliant at, as well as something that you would love. And I would not complain at not having to deal with an active duty Auror anymore.” 

Harry turned his head into Draco’s hand and gave him a light kiss. “Come on. Let’s get ready and go see this house. I’m ready for a change.” 

Draco stood and pulled Harry to his feet. “Agreed. Let’s go find us a new home.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hit "Next Work" to read "And Thirteen Days", the companion piece to this story. I think you'll also notice that I've now set us up for the next part of our Harry/Draco marriage: a family. I hope you're as excited to see that as I am to write it.


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